Survival
by RandiGirl17
Summary: Shadowhunters are a dying breed. After his family was murdered when he was 12, Will Herondale is the final direct descendant of Jonathan Shadowhunter. The Clave has vowed to protect him at all costs, but protectors are dying one by one. Will doubts that Jem Carstairs can protect him from the demon Marbas, but a dangerous secret could be the key to keeping him alive. Or not.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hello! :) Long time, no writing! Glad to be back with my first ever Infernal Devices story! I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know what you think. :) Cheers and happy reading!**_

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><p>My father's study was quiet when I slipped inside, closing the door behind me. Small flames crackled in the fireplace, the embers giving off a faint orange glow around the room. There was a desk in the far corner, and nearly every inch of wall space had been occupied by shelves and shelves of books. Here and there strange weapons had been mounted: crossed knives, swords, gleaming throwing stars, objects I could not name. I stared up at them curiously as I moseyed around, admiring the lethal edges of the weapons. On closer inspection, I noticed odd symbols engraved into the silver. I wondered where my father had obtained such a collection. I'd asked him before, but his answers were always vague. Clearly it was not a topic he liked to discuss. He'd voiced that he did not appreciate my snooping around in his study, which only made me more intrigued.<p>

The chair squeaked as I climbed onto it and investigated what lay on the desk. Neat stacks of paper were positioned near the left edge. Pencils and pens of different ink shades were lined up off to the right. I snorted to see they were arranged according to size, from largest to smallest. My father was weird sometimes.

Next I began rifling through his drawers. The longest one in the middle held nothing interesting: more writing utensils, an neon green adhesive notepad, a stapler and staples. The two on the left were stuffed full of file folders, all labelled with my father's neat handwriting. Nothing caught my attention. It was all work stuff and bills. . . junk parents dealt with. The top right-hand drawer contained a couple small books, some old family pictures, and a bag of caramels. I helped myself to one of the candies and reached for the final drawer. It did not open. I tried again but the drawer remained firmly locked.

I frowned. Why was only one drawer locked?

I opened the middle drawer again and dug through the contents. There! I'd nearly missed it. The small key was hidden under the extra lengths of staples. Silver under silver, the key had been disguised, but the opening and closing of the drawer had shifted the staples, revealing the teeth of the key.

My fingers were jumpy with excitement. I slid the key into the lock and turned. Something clicked and I was able to pull the drawer open. Inside was a golden box. I reached inside to lift it, but it's unexpected weight required two hands. I turned the item this way and that. More peculiar symbols had been carved into the gold. The box was otherwise quite plain. A latch and clasp sealed the container closed. Curious, I unhooked the clasp and detached the latch.

The box rumbled suddenly. I gasped, startled, and the box fell from my fingers. It landed right side up on the floor with a heavy thud, not even bouncing once. As I climbed out of the chair to retrieve it, the lid began to bob up and down. I watched, both fascinated and afraid. The lid lifted back to its hinges and a glow blazed from its belly. I shielded my eyes against the light.

A blue orb floated up out of the box and hovered near my face. I gaped at it, wide-eyed. My fingers itched to reach out and touch it, but I kept my arms firmly at my sides. For a long moment it floated in front of me, studying me. Then it drifted across the room toward the fireplace. It passed through the fire screen as easily as mist and disappeared into the flames.

I sat on the floor, dumbfounded. The box was now empty, and the ball of light had shown no signs of returning. Forcing myself not to panic, I closed the box and placed it back in the drawer. I put the key back in its hiding spot and made for the door. Before I left, I glanced over my shoulder at the fireplace. There was no blue light against the spectrum of orange, red, and yellow.

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><p>A piercing scream jolted me from my sleep. I sat upright in bed, straining my eyes to see through the darkness. A faint light glowed under my door. Loud crashes and bangs resonated down the hall. There was another scream and I recognized my mother's voice. Her shrieking was suddenly cut off, and my heart stopped beating.<p>

My father's shouts reached my ears, followed by more destructive noises. Something inhuman bellowed with what I identified as rage. A struggle was going on outside my door, but I was too terrified to move.

My sister's voice was abruptly added to the mix. She screamed. My father shouted, commanding her to call someone, but his voice was muffled and I couldn't distinguish was he was saying above the noise. Footsteps ran past my door.

My body finally snapped into action. Breathing hard, I slid from my bed and dropped to the floor. There wasn't much space under my bed, but I was small for my age. I wriggled underneath and made myself as tiny as possible.

There was suddenly a thunderous _boom_. My father let out a yell. A hollow bang reminded me of a body crashing against a wall, like I'd seen on TV. The following thud only solidified my guess. Someone stomped around. I heard a quiet creak, followed instantly by my sister's scream, and the slam of a door. Heavy feet pounded down the hallway in a run. Another bang, more screaming, and then deafening silence.

I held my breath. It was a miracle my heart had not ripped out of my chest. I listened hard for more noises, but there was nothing.

Until my door slowly opened.

I clapped my hand over my mouth to hold back my gasp. Light from the hallway flooded into the room. Two feet like I'd never seen before stood in the doorway. Long claws protruded from the ends of its toes, and its skin was blue and scaly. I watched, frozen, as the feet moved into the room. They walked from corner to corner, searching. I stiffened when the feet stopped by my bed. There was ruffling overhead and I could see the edges of my blankets shifting. When I risked glancing at the feet, I noticed splotches of dark red liquid against the scales.

The monster backed away from the bed and strode out of the bedroom. I waited until the intruder loudly descended the stairs before slipping from my hiding place. I crept to the door and peeked into the hallway. The shards of my mother's glass vases littered the floor. There were holes and dents in the walls, along with red smears. I padded across the hall to Ella's room, careful not to make a single noise. Her door was open. Nothing seemed out of place, except that her blankets had been thrown askew. Backing out, I tiptoed back past my room toward the bathroom.

The door had nearly been ripped free of its hinges. It hung open awkwardly. I gaped at the claw marks marring the wood. When I looked inside the bathroom, I had to choke back a sob. Ella was on her back, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. Her hair was fanned out across the floor. She wore a white tank top and pink pajama pants. The material of her shirt had been shredded across her stomach. Blood pooled beneath her from the wounds under her shirt. Her throat had also been ripped. Numerous holes punctured the skin of her neck. Her hand was outstretched beside her, and her cell phone lay out of reach, smashed into tiny bits.

I had the terrifying feeling that I was now alone. My parents would have come to get me if they were still alive, but I hadn't heard from them since their screams had been cut short.

Taking a deep breath, I began creeping down the hallway to the staircase, careful to avoid the glass fragments. As I inched forward, I saw something huddled on the floor near my parents' room. It was a body. Blood smeared the dented wall above it. I could not see his face, but I knew it was my father. Clutched in his limp hand was a blade similar to one of the ones in his study. I looked past him into the darkness of my parents' bedroom. The light was not on, and I was too frightened to go inside and look for my mother.

Sluggishly so as to not elicit a betraying sound from the stairs, I began to descend. When I reached the landing, I looked around nervously. There was nothing to be seen or heard. The kitchen lay through an archway to my left and the living room was on the right. The cordless phone was in my line of vision, sitting in its usual spot on the end table by the sofa. Without thinking, I rushed to make a grab for it.

Something caught around my ankle and sent me crashing to the floor. I flipped onto my backside and scrambled backward, eyes darting around wildly. The intruder stared down at me, his foot still stuck out from tripping me. My jaw fell open at the grotesque sight of him: his entire body was covered in blue scales. His features reminded me of a reptile, with eyes like rubies. He sniffed the air through his snakelike snout. A long yellow tail flicked behind him. I bit back a cry to see barbs and a stinger on the appendage. What that the weapon that had killed my sister?

"There you are," he said. His voice was a hiss. "I've been looking for you."

I scooted backward, desperate to put as much distance between me and him as possible.

"Come now." The monster moved forward with slow, deliberate steps. "I'm not going to hurt you."

I didn't believe him. He reminded me of an agitated snake, waiting for the right moment to strike.

His scarlet eyes narrowed, scrutinizing. "You're the one who let me out of the Pyxis."

My memory flashed to the golden box in my father's study. The blue orb that had floated out when I'd opened it. . . Surely that couldn't have been him. That would make him a demon of sorts. Demons didn't exist. They belonged in fairy tales with monsters. But the orb's bluish glow was the same shade as the intruder's scales.

"I thought it was Edmund who had accidentally released me," the demon went on. "You have inherited your father's features."

My eyes darted over to the cordless phone, still too far away for me to reach. The demon followed my line of sight and let out an amused laugh.

"Don't even think about it, boy."

I made a break for the phone, scrambling on hands and knees. Before I made it too far, something wrapped around my ankle and yanked me back. I screamed as white hot pain jolted up my leg. The demon dangled me upside down with his tail. He shook me like a dog shaking a toy before dropping me to the floor. The air rushed out of my lungs with a whoosh. My ankle was throbbing and blood was soaking into my pajama pants.

"There's no point in putting up much of a fight, little Nephilim."

Nephilim? The name was unfamiliar to me. I was unsure if he was insulting me or not.

The demon detected the confusion in my eyes. He crouched down and eyed me inquisitively. "Could it be that your father never taught you about your bloodline?"

My silence was enough of an answer for him.

He threw back his head and laughed. "He's raised you to be a pathetic little mundane. By trying to protect you, he's made you the weakest target imaginable. It seems as though Edmund's held on to his stupidity through the years."

_But he still captured you._

The demon growled. I jumped, realizing I had unintentionally spoken out loud. His tail lashed out and snared my ankle again. I cried out as he dragged me toward him. My palms scraped against the floor, trying to find traction. I flailed and thrashed, desperate to break free. As he continued to reel me in, my leg kicked out and my foot caught the demon's jaw. He hissed and his tail automatically released me. I got to my feet to run for the front door, but my ankle collapsed beneath me and I fell back to the floor.

A shadow loomed over me. I flipped onto my back. The demon's tail hung in the air, stinger poised to strike. I instinctively rolled out of the way and the stringer plunged into the floor where I had been. The demon snarled, infuriated. He tried to stab me a second time but again I rolled out of the way. The third time, he anticipated my evasion and struck. Pain erupted in my thigh. When he pulled the stinger out of my flesh, the hot pain ebbed into a cold, numbing sensation that began to spread up and down my leg. My stomach roiled and my head began to spin.

"That's right," the demon hissed. "Don't fight it. Just let the venom do its job."

I tried dragging myself across the floor. My leg would not obey. It lagged limply as I scooted backward. My other leg began to tingle and my arms wobbled, struggling to hold my body weight.

The demon watched with a twisted smile, entertained. He stood over me and waved the stinger of his tail in front of my face threateningly. "I'm impressed, little Nephilim. You're delaying your death exceptionally well for someone your size. I'm curious to see what one more sting will do to you."

My eyes were drawn from the demon's stinger to a blue-silver glow that had appeared over his shoulder. He noticed the shifting of my gaze and whirled around. An oval of silver and blue light floated in the air. I watched, mesmerized, as a figured began to manifest. He was tall and broad-shouldered. From head to foot he was clad in what looked like black leather armor. In his hand was a blade similar to the one my father had been holding. The man's dark eyes fell to me. I recognized his face, though I did not know his name. I knew him to be a friend of my father's.

"William, move!" he commanded me.

I tried to crawl backward but my body was resisting me. Every limb felt heavy. My eyelids drooped, but I forbade myself from falling asleep.

"Nephilim filth!" the demon spat, tail lashing back and forth.

"Marbas," the man growled.

I watched as the man leapt forward bravely, raising his sword. He and the demon became locked in a battle. The sphere of light still remained, and I watched through half-lidded eyes as another form began to appear. It was a woman this time, dressed in the same armor as the man. She went to the man's aide without looking at me. The third figure to come through was younger than the other two, but years older than me. He noticed me first and paused, watching his friends with conflicted eyes.

"Gideon!" the man called, still swinging his sword at Marbas. "Get William out of here!"

The teenager hurried to my side without comment. His gray-green eyes slid up and down my body, lingering on my thigh and ankle. He slid his arms under me and picked me up. The jostling sent waves of pain through my leg, but all I could manage was a soft moan. Gideon carried me over to the blue-silver light and stepped into it.

Wind whipped at my hair. My stomach flipped and it was all I could do to not puke all over Gideon's chest. We suddenly set foot in a strange room I had never seen before. It looked like my father's study, only much larger. Unfamiliar people surrounded us. Some of them continued to step through the light single-file, others rushed to Gideon's side to help. He carefully set me on the floor. The wood was unforgiving under my body, but I was ready to fall asleep regardless.

"Will." Gideon shook my shoulder. "You have to stay awake, okay?"

I nodded but my eyes were already closing. Voices drifted around me. Someone tugged at my pant leg and I heard the sound of scissors shearing through material. When I realized what he or she was doing, I tried to fight back. Not even my finger lifted from the floor. My entire body was limp, dead weight.

Gideon launched into a heated argument with a woman. He used words that I did not understand like 'stele' and '_iratze_'. The woman tried to change his mind, but to no avail.

Something cold pressed against my thigh. Fresh pain like a stinging burn exploded where it was dragged across my skin. It grew in intensity until finally, mercifully, I blacked out.

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><p>"Son of a bitch!"<p>

Chunks of the wall rained down on our heads. I lowered my arms and looked up. Scorch marks lined the hole where the spell had hit the wall. Gideon chanced a look around the corner. He let out a curse and flew back against me just as a ball of red sparks flew past. It hit the mahogany dining room table and ignited it in flames.

"Where's Marbas?" Gabriel asked Gideon.

The older of the brothers shook his head. His silver-green eyes were bright and wild against his dirty, scratched face. "I'm not sure. We have to get Will up to the library. Catarina is opening a portal for him there."

Gabriel wiped the sweat from his brow, green eyes intense. "We won't be going anywhere with that warlock out there."

Gideon pulled two throwing knives from his weapons belt. "Leave him to me."

I looked at the two of them. Gideon and Gabriel Lightwood had taken care of me since the day I had been rescued from my house. They had volunteered willingly to be my protectors. I'd grown fond of them over the next five years; they were like brothers to me. The last thing I wanted was to see them sacrificing themselves for me, but they'd take an oath to guard the last direct descendant of Jonathan Shadowhunter.

"Gabriel." Gideon's eyes focused on his brother. "Make sure Will gets to the library. No matter what happens. Understand?" Gideon's eyes turned to me and he winked. "See you later, Shortie."

I smiled at the nickname the siblings had given me. Both of them were taller than me, but the name was an endearment, not a taunt. My smile disappeared when I thought about how much Gideon's four words sounded like a goodbye.

Sucking in a breath, Gideon launched himself around the corner and released one of his throwing knives. We heard a grunt from the warlock. Gabriel and I looked around the bend, crouched low. The handle of the knife protruded from the warlock's shoulder, but he continued firing spells. Gideon dodged them easily, flipping and rolling aside with the skill and grace of an accomplished Shadowhunter.

With the warlock's attention diverted, Gabriel began steering me toward the staircase. We had to cross the wide foyer to get there. As Gabriel and I inched closer, Gideon was also advancing on his enemy. In one fluid motion, he released the other knife and yanked out his dagger. The warlock dodged the knife's path but not without gaining a slash across his cheek. Gideon threw himself forward, dagger aimed at the warlock's chest. The warlock raised his hand.

Time slowed down. Gabriel and I froze, watching the events unfold. I knew in my heart what was going to happen. My throat closed and cut off my scream.

The same moment that Gideon's dagger sunk into the warlock's chest, the warlock cast a dark red curse. The sparks hit Gideon squarely in the ribcage. Both fighters paused, stunned. The warlock fell first, his body and eyes unmoving. Gideon swayed on his feet before collapsing to his knees.

"Gideon!" Gabriel cried.

The upper half of Gideon's body fell forward and crashed against the floor. Like the warlock, he was completely still. Dead.

Surprisingly, Gabriel recovered before I did. He grabbed my arm and hauled me toward the staircase. When I finally tore my eyes from Gideon's body, I saw the tears streaming down Gabriel's cheeks, fragile drops of silver curving over his strong, angular cheekbones. He unsheathed his seraph blade at the top of the staircase and checked left and right before leading me toward the library. We reached it unchallenged, but I felt far from safe.

Gabriel barricaded the door and scanned the room. "The portal should be here."

"We still have time. We can grab Gideon and bring him through the portal. Maybe Catarina can help him."

"Gideon's gone!" Gabriel fired back, emotional. "We can't help him. Besides, Marbas is still out there."

Right on cue, something slammed against the library doors. Gabriel positioned himself in front of me, seraph blade at the ready.

"As soon as that portal opens, you get out of here," Gabriel instructed, his voice firm like his brother's had been. "Don't wait for me."

The doors blew open, clashing against the walls with loud bangs. I flinched at the noise; Gabriel remained steady and sure-footed.

Marbas strode into the room casually, tail whipping behind him. He eyed Gabriel undauntedly and craned his neck to peer at me. It had been five years since I'd seen the demon who had slaughtered my family, who had tried to kill me. Seeing him again unearthed my grief, my hatred, and my fear. I tried not to cringe under his stare but failed.

Marbas smiled, satisfied by my reaction. "There you are, William. I've been looking for you."

The same words he had said to me the first time we'd met. The effect was not lost on me.

"You want Will, Marbas? You'll have to go through me," Gabriel snarled.

Marbas's snout pulled into a sneer. "You look oddly familiar. Ah, you must be the Lightwood runt. Where's your brother?"

Gabriel did not fall for the demon's trick; he calmly remained where he was, guarding me. I felt something stirring behind me. When I looked over my shoulder, I discovered a circle of light expanding. The portal was opening.

Marbas noticed too and surged forward. "You won't be getting away this time, William."

Gabriel waited and then swung his blade in an arc at the demon. Marbas dodged it and tried to sneak around the side. Gabriel anticipated the maneuver and kicked out with his leg. His muscular, booted foot hit Marbas's middle and knocked him back. Marbas roared and struck out at Gabriel's ankle with his tail. Gabriel executed a flip, evading the attack. He swung his seraph blade down. The demon shrieked when the weapon hit his tail, but the appendage was not severed.

"Will, go!" Gabriel shouted.

I stepped back and felt a breeze pulling at my clothes and hair, but I hesitated from entering the portal completely. I couldn't leave Gabriel behind. When the timing was just right, we'd jump through it together.

Marbas swung his tail horizontally and Gabriel ducked out of the way. The demon jumped back and crouched low. The stinger struck outward toward Gabriel's chest. The Shadowhunter jumped to the side to avoid it. Marbas leapt after Gabriel's feet had barely touched the ground. Gabriel sprung to the other side on unbalanced legs. I watched in horror as Gabriel stumbled and Marbas shot out his tail.

In disbelief I staggered backward. The portal pulled at my body, carrying me away, but not before I heard Gabriel's choked gasp as Marbas's barbed tail pierced him right through the heart, the stinger protruding from his back. Gabriel's stunned green eyes found mine seconds before the portal closed and everything disappeared.

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><p>ONE MONTH LATER<p>

I was watching TV in my room where there was a knock at my door. My blonde-haired glorified babysitter poked her head in, a smile on her face. I rolled my eyes when I saw her, but she was unbothered by my behavior. She had grown used to it over our couple of weeks together. I never seemed to irritate her, which irritated _me_.

"Your roommate is here," she said. "Come say hello."

I let out a dramatic sigh and pushed the power button on the remote. Climbing off my bed, I dragged my feet as I followed my sitter down the hall. She was trying to make my current predicament sunny and fun and cute by using a term like roommate. It made me want to puke.

We descended the Institute's massive stairwell to the foyer. Another member of the Clave, a forty-something man in a black suit, stood next to a guy about my age. The two of them cut off their hushed conversation as we approached.

I sized up my 'roommate'. He was slightly shorter than me. The fit of his clothes hinted at lean muscle covering every inch of him. He was in no way brawny, like Gideon had been, but I had no doubt that he was agile. His hair was dark and tousled, thinly streaked in random spots with silver. Odd for someone his age. The eyes that watched me were gray, but not cold.

"Will," the blonde said, "I'd like you to meet James Carstairs. James, this is William Herondale."

The newcomer offered his hand. "Jem."

"Jim," I said, deliberately trying to antagonize him.

Jem let his unshaken hand fall back to his side, his smile unwavering. The strap of a backpack hung from his shoulder and a duffle bag sat at his feet. Next to the bag was a violin case. I frowned. What was he going to do? Serenade me into liking him?

"We'll let you two get acquainted," the blonde chirped. "Will, why don't you show Jem to his room?"

I headed for the stairs, not bothering to offer to help with his luggage. "Right this way, _James_."

He followed me up the stairs in silence. I appreciated that he did not attempt to make small talk. He looked around curiously as I led him down the long hall of closed doors. I stopped in front of the room next to mine and tapped the door with my foot.

"This one's yours."

"Thanks," Jem said, still grinning.

I narrowed my eyes. "Look, don't make yourself too comfortable. The second I turn eighteen, I'm taking off."

Jem's smile remained but his eyes were skeptical. "You're stuck with me until Marbas is found and killed, Will."

"Or until _you're_ killed," I said bluntly.

I turned and walked back into my room, leaving Jem in the hallway with his baffled expression. The door slammed as I kicked it shut. Most likely he'd been tipped off about my attitude, my _acting out_. He looked too confident, his demeanour was too calm. He probably thought this gig as my babysitter was going to be a piece of cake.

Well, I was going to make it hell for him.


	2. Locked Inside

_**Hello! Sorry about the wait for this chapter. I've got something else I'm working on, and it's doing quite a bit better than this story so far. I'll try to update this one as much as I can. Anyway, this chapter is a bit short. Expect the beginning chapters to have a slow pace, but I promise that there is some action approaching. Thank you for reading, following, favorite-ing, and reviewing! More reviews would be splendid! :)**_

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><p>Someone knocked on the door but I didn't bother to mute the TV. I glanced over and saw Jem poke his head into my room. He crept inside without an invitation. I raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to the TV. He strode up to the side of the bed, hands shoved casually in his pockets. I stayed where I was, reclined against a mountain of pillows with my arm tucked behind my head.<p>

"What are you watching?" he asked, peering at the TV.

I lifted the remote and turned up the volume pointedly. Jem, however, didn't take the hint.

"Can I speak with you?" he asked, voice raised to keep it afloat over the television.

"I'm busy," I said shortly.

Jem sauntered over to the TV and pressed the power button. The screen flashed to darkness. I immediately pushed the power button on the remote, flaring the screen back to life. Much to my agitation, Jem manually turned the TV off again and stood in front of the screen, arms folded across his chest.

"Isn't there someone else you can bother?" I asked dryly.

"I'm not here to bother you." Jem moved his arms to clasp his hands behind his back. His posture was tall and straight, uncommon for people our age. "I feel as though there is an unwarranted tension between us, Will. I was not sent here to tell you what you can and can't do; I'm here to protect you. This situation doesn't have to be all bad."

"You want to be my friend, James?"

"I'd like that, yes."

"I don't need any friends," I hissed, sitting up. "Nor do I want any."

Jem's silver eyes narrowed. "I know what you're doing."

"Do enlighten me," I said, my voice dripping with sarcastic enthusiasm.

"You're afraid, Will."

I slid from the bed and stalked toward the other Shadowhunter, my movements measured and smooth, predatory. Jem held his ground, unflinching.

"You loved Gideon and Gabriel," he continued. "You saw them murdered, just like your family before them. You're afraid to feel grief's pain again, so you're deliberately trying to push me away. Isolating yourself from everyone around you will not make death any easier to bear; it'll only make you feel more alone."

"I am not afraid," I countered with a threatening calmness. "I'm being smart. Marbas will always find a way to use the people I care about against me. Devastation makes me weak, it makes us all weak. By isolating myself, the chances of me or anyone around me getting hurt are minimal. I'm barricading myself so you can do your damn job and kill that bloody demon without wearing yourself thin trying to protect me and my friends. No friends equals less work, so you're welcome."

"Friends make loyal allies."

"Friends also make great bait or spies of the enemy. It takes just one to give Marbas the foothold he needs to lure me out into the open so he can finish me off."

Despite the dark mood of our conversation, Jem grinned. "You're paranoid."

Insulted and rapidly losing control of my temper, I snarled, "Get out of my room."

"I want to help you, Will."

Spinning on my heel, I hurried over to the side of my bed and ripped a dagger out from under the pillows. The deadly weight was a comfort, perfectly fitted to the curve of my palm. Jem drew himself up taller and shifted from foot to foot but his face remained composed.

"There's nothing wrong with me," I spat. "Now get out."

"Anger stems from the roots of pain. I understand the hurt that makes holding that dagger feel so good."

I launched myself across the room. Jem raised his hands at the last moment to fend me off. He grappled me, pushing me backward with the force of his body. I let the dagger fall from my right hand and, wrenching my left wrist free, caught it in the air and made a slash for Jem's belly. He instantly released my right hand and jumped back out of the dagger's path. His hand slipped behind him briefly and reappeared, his own dagger nestled in his clenched fingers.

Low to the ground, I rushed forward and caught Jem around the waist. He let out a grunt as I slammed him to the floor but wasted no time in rolling free and lurching to his feet. My arm curled back and unfurled like the crack of a whip. The dagger flew out of my hand and sailed, end over end, toward Jem. He dropped to the floor out of its trajectory. Like a feral, wild cat I pounced. My fist caught the Shadowhunter's jaw. His hips bucked off the floor but I pressed all my weight onto him, pinning him down. His hand pushed at my chest as I grabbed a fistful of his hair and poised my other fist to strike his face.

For a split second I thought I saw something flicker in Jem's eyes. The rings of silver surrounding his irises flashed to a pale green, though it could have been a trick of the light. There was movement in the corner of my eye and I sucked in a breath through my teeth as pain ignited in my bicep. I released Jem's hair and looked down to see a slash in arm. Trails of dark blood snaked down to my wrist.

Jem thrashed and knocked me off balance. Wriggling out from under me, he pushed me to the floor and pinned me on my back. I flinched as his dagger slammed down into the floorboard beside my head. Jem stared down at me, panting hard, his fingers still gripping the weapon.

There it was again: the miniscule change in Jem's features. I saw a quick moment of confusion before the burst of clarity. Jem released the dagger and rolled off me.

"I'm sorry," he said breathlessly. "Are you all right? Let me see—"

I sat up and twisted so my back was to him. Warmth spread through my fingers as I placed my hand over the wound in my arm. The cut was relatively deep but the pain had not yet become unbearable.

"Get out," I murmured.

Jem was momentarily silent before I heard him get to his feet and shuffle over to the door. I felt his gaze on me but I did not turn until the door closed. My breathing was ragged and shaky as I pulled my hand away to inspect the damage to my arm. Gushes of blood spilled too quickly for me to get a clear view, though I thought I saw hints of tissue and muscle. Reaching into my back pocket, I withdrew my stele and placed it against my skin. I welcomed the familiar burn as I drew an _iratze_, letting out a sigh as the area numbed and began to stitch itself back together.

As my wound healed, I looked over to find Jem's dagger still sticking up out of the floor. Slowly, almost cautiously, I reached over and yanked it out. Holding it between my fingers, I studied the intricate markings on the blade and handle. My blood coated part of the gleaming blade. What looked like vines had been engraved into the blade, and the handle appeared as though it had been made out of scales. I thought of Marbas's skin and cringed.

Never before had I felt so inclined to attack one of my protectors, and never had any of them dared to lay a finger on me. I'd had my rough patches with Gabriel and Gideon, times where we'd annoyed each other and pushed each other to our limits. And of course they'd trained me to the best of their abilities, which meant there had been no shortage of sparring, wrestling, defensive and offensive maneuvers. But neither Gabriel nor Gideon had ever cut open my skin on purpose. Not even when I'd lashed out at them, overcome with emotion. Not even when I'd begged them to hit me back.

I'd had a couple protectors in the month between the Lightwood brothers and Jem. All of them were just temps, barely sticking around long enough for me to memorize their names. The Clave, it seemed, was running low on Shadowhunters to spare. They'd always assured me that I was their top priority, but I was lucky if the Clave managed to send two protectors to guard me at once. I'd wondered if the number of Shadowhunters had really diminished or if the Clave had just run out of volunteers who were willing to deal with a surly, damaged, teenager. Those that had stepped forward had barely spoken to me, let alone raised a dagger to me.

I flipped the dagger and watched as my blood inched from one edge to the other. It was clear that James Carstairs was not like my other guardians. There was something different about him, and I'd caught a glimpse of it in the flicker of his eyes, in the change of his expression. I wanted— needed —to know more about him. James Carstairs was obviously more dangerous than he led on, which should have been alarming, but I was only intrigued.

* * *

><p>My back was propped up against my door as I listened for any sounds in the hallway. It had been completely quiet for the past half an hour. Bored, I tossed Jem's dagger into the air and snatched it again before it could hit the ground.<p>

At last, I heard the clacking off heels echoing down the hall. They stopped just past my door and there were three knocks against Jem's door. I turned my head, straining to hear what was going on. The blonde woman asked Jem to join her downstairs. Jem, polite as ever, agreed, and I heard two sets of footsteps amble down the hall toward the stairs. When I was sure they were gone, I got up and crept out of my room. My bare feet made no sounds against the floorboards. I reached for the doorknob and turned it quietly, pushing the door open a crack.

"What are you doing?"

My hand froze on the door handle. I looked over my shoulder to see Jem standing behind me, his arms folded across his chest. I hadn't heard him come back up the stairs. His narrowed silver eyes were inquisitive, but I did not miss when they flitted to the faded scar on my bicep.

Calmly, I let go of the doorknob and raised my other hand, which held Jem's dagger. "Thought I'd return this to you."

"Your stealth suggests you're trying not to be seen, as opposed to trying to find me."

The lie rolled off my tongue, "You might have been sleeping. Wouldn't want to wake you."

"How considerate of you." Jem held out his hand, palm up.

"Then again," I dropped the dagger into his palm, "you might be a little too riled up to sleep. Maybe you were contemplating the oath you took to protect me. Maybe you don't really have it in you."

Jem sheathed the weapon behind him. "I am sorry for what I did to you, Will, but it was self-defense. I had to protect myself so I can protect you. I can't do my job with a busted face."

"The gouge in my floorboard suggests you took it a little farther than self-defense."

Smiling and completely at ease, Jem stepped forward and pulled his door closed. He withdrew a key from his pocket and locked the door. He tucked the key away and headed for the staircase.

"Something in there you don't want me to see?" I called out to him.

Without turning around he answered, "I don't want you looting through my stuff. You seem like the kind of guy who would steal my money and my Maxim magazines."

I laughed under my breath. I tried the door just for the hell of it, but it was securely locked. As I trudged back to my room, I wondered what secrets Jem had locked inside his room. Furthermore, I wondered what secrets James Carstairs had locked inside himself.


End file.
